The Story of the Legend of the Exciting Lunchroom Adventures of Sammy Dishdog and Pancake Motherf&#$*r

As long as we're on the subject of pancakes, this is a true story:

Back in college there was this guy who worked every morning in the cafeteria as a cook. He made pancakes.

He made them well.

Not only that but he called himself, and in turn everyone else called him, "Pancake". He hung out with "Sammy Dishdog".

Anyhow, as the legend goes, Pancake had actually gone through the trouble of having his real name (which itself has faded into history) legally changed to "Pancake Motherf&#$*r". I'm not sure if they would actually let you do that, *but* that was indeed the name he went by, and legends usually have some basis in fact.

I graduated. Years passed. I moved on and met a nice girl, got married. And during a lull in one of our conversations I shared with her the "Story of the Legend of the Exciting Lunchroom Adventures of Sammy Dishdog and Pancake Motherf&#$*r". It was just one of my wacky college stories, which, I'm sure, my wife did not completely believe, as I have a tendency to blur reality with fantasy sometimes (shocking, I know).

More years passed. Leaves budded and dropped, snow fell, melted, ran down the sides of mountains, and fell again the next winter as clouds passed quickly overhead in time lapse and wall calendar pages quickly flew off into oblivion. You get the drill. Insert whatever visual you'd like for time passing quickly here.

Then one Monday in November, my wife went into work and asked her coworker how he'd spent his recently-ended Thanksgiving holiday. He replied, "I went to Santa Cruz for dinner with some friends. I sat next to this guy named Pancake. Can you believe that? Pancake. Nice guy though. Great chef too."

My wife replied, "Wait! Pancake Motherf&#$*r?!"

To which he replied, "That's the guy!"

We pretty much figured it had to be him.